The Silent Dreams
by ricekrispiestreat
Summary: In their sixth year at Hogwarts, something very strange happened to Harry and Draco. Now, ten years later, they're finally coming to terms with it. Meanwhile, both have their own demons to work out from the war.
1. Ch 1: The Past Recalled and Remembered

It had all started very suddenly. Harry could remember the exact moment as he stared out the rain washed window of a small cafe into a gray London. He was watching intently for someone. A someone with sleek, white blonde hair.

Harry hadn't seen Draco for years besides brief encounters a few wizarding functions. They had never spoken but just the sight of his old enemy brought back a tirade of memories and left him in a strange mood sometimes for weeks afterward.

Five days ago, he had decided he was tired of hiding from the past. Tired of ignoring what had happened and trying to make sense of it on his own. On that slow day at the ministry, Harry realized it was time to face this, time to finally settle things once and for all.

He lookd down at the cooling cup of coffee in his hand. He took a small sip and placed it on the table in front of him. Uncounciously his hand slid down to his back pocket and removed the leather wallet he kept for whenever he ventured into the muggle world. He opened it and slipped out a small, moving photograph. The edges were wrinkled from all the times he'd held it, smoothing a finger over the smiling face of Ginny Weasley. Her eyes glowed as she happily ran her hands over her buldging stomach. He'd taken this picture a week before the accident that had taken her and their baby's life. His eyes stung and he quickly put the picture away, not wanting Draco to find him crying over something that had happened over a year ago.

_But then_, he thought to himself, _I'm seeing him over something that happened more than ten years ago and he agreed to the meeting_. The bell over the door tinkled making Harry look up sharply. Sure enough, the person walking into the cafe, shaking rain off their coat and looking around, was Draco Malfoy. Harry was just about to make some gesture to get the tall man's attention when pale gray eyes found him. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Draco walked over to the table and sat across from Harry.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," he said stiffly, pausing before he said Harry's name, clearly unsure of what to call him. Harry inclined his head slightly and answered in return.

"Mr. Malfoy." Silence fell on the table. The same memories was running through both men's minds but neither were willing to be the one to bring it up. An oblivious, young waitress was the one to break the quiet. Loudly, chewing bubble gum and barely putting away her phone long enough to talk to them, she asked Draco what he wanted to order.

"Just a coffee," he said softly, wanting her to go away. She rolled her eyes.

"What kind of coffee?" she asked.

"Whatever he's having is fine."

"What's he having? There are a lot of customers, I can't remember everyone's order," she said rudely. There was only one other person in the cafe. Draco sneered at the woman and opened his mouth to make a sharp retort.

"One spoonful of cream, two of sugar," Harry interrupted mildly. The waitress scribbled on her notepad then stalked away angrily. Draco watched her go with malice in his expression.

"I hate muggles," he muttered under his breath and Harry took another sip from his cup. He hid a small smile behind the rim of the mug.

"You never change, do you?" he asked good naturedly. Draco glared at him making him laugh lightly. "Honestly, if you were suddenly kind to muggles I wouldn't believe that you weren't being controlled by someone. It's just," he paused, "part of who you are, I guess. And I don't mean that in a bad way." Silence fell over the table again. Draco was watching Harry with a guarded expression.

"Why did you ask me here?" he finally said. Harry lowered the cup he'd just emptied slowly, a thoughtful look on his face.

"You know why. I said so in the letter I sent you."

"Yes, I know why, technically. But why now? Why at all? I thought you were happy. Married to your best friend's sister, child on the way, good job at the ministry, respected by the entire wizarding community. Why bring up an old accident?" Harry stared at Draco for a minute.

"Did you not hear what happened?" he asked. Draco frowned, not sure what Harry was talking about.

"I haven't been involved in much of the wizarding world these last two years, so unless you're talking about something besides what happened at school I have no idea."

"Ginny's dead," Harry said bluntly. "So is the baby." Draco gasped involuntarily. He couldn't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?" Harry looked down at the table where his wallet was still laying. He flipped it open and pulled the picture out again.

"About a week after this picture was taken, some old death eaters attacked our house while I was away hunting down a few of their comrades. It was a goose chase, a ploy to take me away from my family so they could get to them. Ginny was asleep and never knew what happened. They murdered her in our bed, used a knife so we couldn't track them. All were escapees from Azakaban after they started to put the trace back on their prisoners," Harry explained in a hollow voice. Draco felt his heart go out to the dark haired man across from him.

"Why now?" Harry continued. "I got tired of feeling like I'd missed a step going downstairs every time I saw you. There's something unresolved between us and I'd like closure."

"So you're digging up the past," Draco stated simply. Harry stared at him, not saying a word. The waitress came back to the table and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of Draco. She stalked away without asking if either of them wanted anything else, already intent on her phone. Draco grabbed the handle gingerly and took a sip. He made a face and put the cup back down quickly.

"That's bitter!" he exclaimed, grabbing a handful of artificial sweetner out of the small container on the table. "How can you drink that stuff?" he asked while dumping in at least ten packets of sugar. Harry chuckled.

"I don't have a major sweet tooth like you do," he answered. Draco made a face at him, stired the coffee with a lazy flick of his finger that made Harry frown, then took another sip.

"Much better," he declared.

"You're not supposed to use magic in a muggle establishment, you know," Harry said mildly.

"What are you going to do, arrest me?" Draco asked, arching one pale eyebrow. Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

"I could, but it seems too much effort for such a little thing. Can't say I care that much. Especially seeing as even if someone besides me had been watching, it's not like they would know what you just did."

"Then why raise all the fuss?"

"I didn't raise fuss, I simply reminded you of the law. You were the one that carried it on." Draco smiled at Harry, a small upturning of the corners of his mouth. Harry returned it after a moment's hesitation. He fiddled idly with the cup still in his hands. After a long pause Draco spoke up again.

"We never use too have any trouble finding things to say to each other," he commented in an amused tone. Harry let out a small bark of laughter.

"True, but what we said wasn't ever exactly kind, was it?" Draco shook his head in the negative. Harry asked a question he had wondered about for many years, "Why did you dislike me from the first second you laid eyes on me?"

"I did no such thing. I was perfectly friendly when we first met. The first two times, in fact. It was you that rejected my offer of friendship." Draco responded.

"You had just insulted the only person that had ever been nice to me. And in Madam Mulken's you were acting like Dudley."

"Dudley?"

"My cousin. Spoiled from birth and fond of beating me up." Draco looked down at the table with a somewhat guilty expression on his face.

"Yes, I've heard through the grapevine that your childhood wasn't the golden paradise than I'd always accused you of."

"No, it really wasn't. Both you and Severus were very convinced of my living in a comfortable household that doted on my every whim."

"Didn't you tell me about some of that during-" Draco paused uncomfortably. "During-" he stopped again.

"Yeah," Harry replied. Both refused to make eye contact. The waitress came by the table with a sullen expression, probably having just been told to go see if they needed anything.

"I'll have another coffee," Harry told her just as she opened her mouth to ask. They didn't speak for the few minutes it took for the waitress to bring him his new cup and remove the old one. Harry took a sip then grabbed one of the sugar packets.

"She forgot my order again," he murmured quietly as he added the suger to the dark liquid. Draco made a disgusted noise.

"She's a horrible waitress. Or is this service customary of run down muggle cafes?"

"No, she's just bad. Judging by the glares she's getting from the cook and manager back there, she's not going to be working here much longer. Probably as long as it takes to find a replacement."

"Good. I wouldn't inflict her service on anyone." Harry chuckled.

"Well, now that we're both here, we might as well discuss what we're here to talk about," Harry said. Draco gripped the handle of his cup tightly and nodded stiffly. Instantly both thought back to what had happened years ago. Years ago, but both still remembered it with clarity.

*~*~*10 years ago; Hogwarts*~*~*

The sun slid across the floor of the sixth year, Gryffindor boys dorm room. The curtains were pulled tightly around all five beds preserving the darkness surrounding their inhabitants. Birds were chirping loudly outside the window, darting back and forth. A loud bang sounded from the common room, cracking the silence and waking four of the boys instantly. Ron gave a sharp snore and rolled over in his bed but otherwise did not stir. Harry sat up quickly, opened the curtains, and was now searching for his glasses on the table beside the head of his bed.

"What's goin' on?" Seamus called out.

"I don't know. Sounded like something exploded," Dean responded. He, Seamus, and Neville got up and went downstairs. Harry, who had finally located his glasses, slid them onto his face and went over to Ron's bed to wake him up. After a few minutes, they too were headed down the stairs to the common room. There they found a crowd surrounding a stunned looking Colin Creevey. He was covered in soot and standing in front of a singed hole in the carpet.

"What did you do?" a scandalized looking Hermione asked loudly. He snapped to look at her and seemed surprised by the group that had gathered.

"I-I was practicing a spell and I accidentally hit a deck of exploding snap. Then this happened," he trailed off. Hermione's face softened slightly. She stepped forward to help him clean up and the others, realizing there wasn't anything interesting happening, wandered off back to their dorms. Harry and Ron went to Hermione's side.

"It's ok, let's just clean it up," she said quietly. She waved her wand and the frayed edges of the rug extended and wove themselves together forming a complete pattern again. When she was done she brushed off most of the ash covering Colin's front with another quick spell. Ron, still sleepy, slumped into an armchair and promptly fell asleep again. After she'd done all she could, Hermione sent Colin upstairs to clean off properly. She gave Harry an exasperated look.

"Certainly not how I was planning to wake up," he commented lightly. She gave a small sigh in agreement.

"It wasn't too bad but I should talk to McGonagall, make sure there wasn't any damage to the stone. Wouldn't want anything worse to happen."

"It was just a deck of exploding snap. It couldn't cause anything that bad."

"But was it just a deck of exploding snap? I don't see any cards and I've never heard of this kind of accident occuring before. I think Colin was lying about what happened." Harry looked down at the newly sown circle in the floor. He nodded in agreement though he still suspected Hermione was over reacting. She glanced at Ron and gave a more pronounced sigh. "I can see he wasn't expecting to be up this early on a Saturday morning either."

"No, and I guess he's decided it's not worth the time to go back up to bed," Harry replied with a smile. Hermione shook her head as she started walking to the portrait hole.

"I'm going to go talk to Professor McGonagall," she announced. Harry waved her good-bye then poked Ron awake again. They trooped back upstairs silently. Under the rug and down through the thick stone floor, the force of the magic resonated. Something shifted in the fragile balance and something ancient awoke.


	2. Ch 2: Fighting and Its Consequences

Chapter Two:

Fighting and Its Consequences

*~*~*Hogwarts*~*~*

Dinner in the Great Hall was its usual noisy affair. Harry was laughing with Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry had only gotten in from an impromptu quidditch match with a few others from their house about ten minutes ago. They were now regaling Hermione with tales from the game. Ginny walked over to join them accompanied by Dean Thomas. They sat down next to Ron and added their commentary. Ron was giving Dean a suspicious look but otherwise didn't make any comment.

"And so then I turn around quickly to see Neville, of all people, pull of a spectacular save!" Harry finished with much laughter. Hermione gave him an indulgent grin.

"It really was very impressive," Ginny added and Dean nodded in agreement behind her. "I've heard that he's been practicing a lot over the summer. He wants to be on the team, I think."

"Well if he can play like that all the time, he'll give Ron a run for his money come try-outs," Harry responded, grinning at his friend who scowled and punched his arm. Harry smirked and started eating with fervor. Hours of vigorous quidditch had made him very hungry. Ron followed suit and a slight quiet fell over the group.

"Where were you the second half of the game, Hermione?" Harry asked after a few minuets having just remembered seeing her leaving the stadium at one point.

"Oh I figured I'd go to the library and get some studying done. I knew you and Ron would tell me all about the highlights of the match repeatedly regardless of my having been there or not." Ginny snorted at this, Ron and Harry took slightly affronted expressions.

"So you just decided it wasn't worth it to watch?" Ron accused, frowning. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't an actual game, it was just for fun and I needed to work on my homework. You know I like to get things done as early as I can."

"Yeah, but you don't have to avoid Harry and I to do it."

"I wasn't avoiding you. I was there for the first half, wasn't I?"

"What were you doing that had to be in the library? Usually you just study in the stands," Harry interjected as Ron started to look angry. To everyone's surprise, a faint blush appeared across Hermione's cheeks.

"N-nothing, I was just doing rune translations. That takes too many books to be comfortable outside in the stands," Hermione stuttered, looking down at her plate quickly. Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

"Hermione," Harry began with a questioning look in her eyes. Hermione fiddled with her hands then shoved them out of sight under the table. Her eyes flashed up to Harry's, over to Ron's, then returned to her food. Ginny suddenly took the initiative.

"Come on, guys, you trust Hermione. If she says it's nothing, it's probably nothing and you should leave it alone," she chastised before hurriedly changing the subject back to quidditch. Ron was immediately swept back up into reliving the game but Harry gave his friend another long, calculating look before diverting his attention. Hermione gave Ginny a fleeting look of thanks then tried to act interested in what they were all saying.

Not long after Dean was called away by some other friends, Ginny and Hermione finished their meal and headed back up to the dorm, and Ron was attacked by Lavender and was now engaged in a heated battle of the tongues. Harry felt if he hurried he might be able to talk to Hermione before she disappeared into her room. He was still terribly curious about what had made her so embarrassed.

His thoughts centered around her strange behavior as he exited the Great Hall and he wasn't paying attention to where he was going until he walked straight into someone. He stumbled back a few steps, rubbing his head and uttering a curse under his breath. The other person had faired worse and was collecting themselves off the floor.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized sincerely. "I wasn't watching where I was going." He offered his hand to help the boy up when he recognized bleach blonde hair.

"Of course it's you, Potter," Malfoy spat. "If I hadn't been having a bad enough day already, the bloody Chosen One has run into me because he's too much of an oaf to walk properly." Harry's face flushed.

"So sorry I ruined your evening, oh most magnificent one," he scowled, starting to walk towards the main staircase.

"You should be, you bloody pansy." Harry stopped and turned around with an incredulous expression.

"What did you just call me?" he asked. Malfoy sneered at him.

"Believe me, Potter, people have noticed that you've never had a successful relationship with a girl," he said in a nasty voice. "How long did that thing with Cho last? Two weeks? And rumor has it she was crying when you kissed her. That desperate, are you?" Harry clenched his hands and turned to continue up the stairs. Unfortunately, Malfoy wasn't ready to give up now and followed after him.

"People have also noticed just how close you and Weasel always are. I bet some interesting crap goes down in you dorm room. Or would, if you weren't all closed minded idiots with no imagination," he continued. Harry knew it was a cheap blow, only being expressed because Malfoy was upset with something, but it didn't stop him from curling his hands into fists and responding.

"What about you and Crabbe and Goyle? Or Zabini, for that matter? I bet he's got some right nice emotional issues with that whore of a mother. But it's probably a requisite of Slytherin house to be a slut with no feelings. Besides, if Ron's gay then what's Lavender?"

"Haven't you ever heard of a beard, Potter? I bet you wish you knew just what Blaise and I get up to. We're not all sluts but it's certainly a better stereotype than being a prude." Harry stopped dead and started at Malfoy in shock. He hadn't expected the comment about Zabini. Malfoy say his expression and smirked.

"Oh yes, Potter, I'll gladly admit to it. I'll even tell you all about it sometime, if you think you stomach can handle it. Which I doubt very much." Harry shook his head, trying to rid himself of the image that had just presented itself and continued down the corridor faster than before.

"Well if now's the time for telling about ourselves, why don't you add something to the mix, Potter?" Malfoy gibed, following after him. "Got the hots for Granger? Or how about Weasel's little sister, hmm?"

"Shut up," Harry growled, not wanting to admit to himself the jolt he'd felt in the pit of his stomach at the slight to Ginny.

"Oh it is her, isn't it? Should have known. You must like those redheads. Hear you're pretty friendly with all the blood traitors." Harry increased his speed but Malfoy's longer legs were having no trouble keeping up.

"Go away. Don't you have something better to do?" Harry demanded, making a sharp turn away from the blond haired boy.

"Not a thing," Malfoy responded with a maddening smile. Harry stopped abruptly in the middle of a corridor he didn't recognize.

"You're an insufferable prat, you know that, right?"

"It may have been mentioned before."

"You're just like your scum of a father. Slink around like you own the world because of your stuck up heritage and money in the bank. Yet you still lower yourselves to serve a mad man because you think you deserve to rule everyone," Harry snarled. Malfoy dropped his smile to glare menacingly at Harry.

"Leave my family out of this," he said in a low voice. Harry laughed.

"And why should I? When do you ever leave my family or the family of my friends out of it?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"And you do when you make jokes about my upbringing, about Hermoine's family, about Ron's? You're a bloody hypocrite, that's what you are, Malfoy, a bloody coward that can't take his own medicine." Malfoy's wand was pulled so quickly that Harry barely had time to duck before the spell crashed into the wall behind him. He grabbed his own wand from his pocket and aimed it at Malfoy shouting the first spell that came to mind. Malfoy threw himself to the side and a large crack appeared in the window he'd been standing in front of.

The force of the blow had caused Malfoy to stumble and fall, from the ground he fired another spell up at Harry who didn't dodge in time and felt it graze the end of his robe sending him to the ground as well. Instinctively he kicked out, his foot connected with Malfoy's jaw and forcing his head back sharply. Malfoy let out a loud cry that made Harry cringe with regret until Malfoy rolled onto one side and sunk his fist into Harry's exposed stomach making him curl his legs towards his chest and moan. Quickly Malfoy smashed his other fist into the side of Harry's head making him see stars then scrambled to his feet and directed his wand at Harry. Seconds before the curse hit him; Harry threw up a shield charm. Malfoy stepped forward and aimed at kick at Harry's exposed side. He rolled away and in his distraction a second and third spell hit and shattered the remains of his shield forcing the air out of his lungs. For a fraction of a second, Harry's eyes met Malfoy's and they both paused. Then they each fired a single spell at each other.

"_Crucio_!" screamed Malfoy.

"_Sectumsempra_!" Harry yelled in response. The spells hit each other in mid air and bounced off. Malfoy's curse hit the already shattered window, broke it, and flew outside towards the distant trees. Harry's however bounced off the walls and eventually hit their target. Blood poured from large wounds that had suddenly opened all over Malfoy's body. He staggered and fell to the floor. Harry couldn't move, he couldn't believe what he had just done.

"No –," he gasped and crawled over to Malfoy. The pale boy was scrabbling feebly at his chest where the largest of the wounds seemed to be. Blood was streaming off his soaked clothing and spilling across the floor. Harry was alarmed at how much blood there was. How could there be so much and Malfoy was still alive?

"I didn't –," he began. He couldn't finish. He didn't mean to? He didn't know what it would do? The words wouldn't mean anything. Suddenly he came to his senses and realized that if he didn't do something fast, Malfoy was going to die here and it was all his fault.

"HELP!" he screamed as loud as he could. A strange whisper seemed to move across the hall but Harry didn't notice. He'd wrapped his arms around Malfoy and was trying to pick him up. Malfoy's eyes were closing and he clutched unconsciously at Harry's shoulders as he was hoisted from the ground. When Harry stood up and looked around he found that he didn't know where they were. During the argument he'd made random turns hoping to get away form Malfoy. Cursing his own stupidity, Harry closed his eyes and quickly retraced their steps in his mind. Once he was sure he knew the way, Harry took off in the direction of the hospital wing as quickly as he could. On the way Malfoy slipped in and out of consciousness as blood continued to stream from his robes onto the floor leaving a bloody path behind them.

"Where' you taking me, Potter?" he mumbled as his head rolled on his shoulders. Harry spared him a quick glance then continued to concentrate on where he was going.

"Hospital wing," he answered shortly. Malfoy tried to look around him but the movement seemed to make him dizzy and he closed his eyes with a moan.

"Would have thought you'd know a spell like that." Harry bit his lip thinking about how he was going to explain just that to, well, to everyone. Something like this wasn't going to be kept quiet.

"I'm sorry," was all Harry could think to say. Malfoy chuckled.

"Also wouldn't have thought I'd hear you apologize twice to me in one day," he whispered before his eyes closed and he stilled again. Harry looked down at his slightly frowning face and felt another pang of panic slide through him.

"You can't die on me," he said quietly and shook Malfoy the best he could without unbalancing him. Malfoy's eyelids fluttered.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I said you weren't allowed to die on me." Malfoy's eyes opened more fully and he stared up at Harry.

"You don't want one of your enemies to die? You hate me," Malfoy proclaimed. Harry opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure of how to answer. Malfoy saved him the trouble when he snorted. "Of course. Harry bloody Potter, the Chosen Boy, the One Who Lived, the Golden Boy, the Savior of the Wizarding World. No, you would never want someone dead, would you? Except Voldemort, anyway."

"I don't hate you," was all Harry said in response. Malfoy snorted again.

"Sure you do, Potter. Always have, always will," he said in a monotone voice.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. Why else would you reject me before I'd ever done anything to make you think negatively of me? Obviously it's just meant to be that we'd hate each other." Harry was silent for a few seconds.

"Do you hate me, Malfoy?" he asked. He had expected Malfoy to respond immediately but instead a surprisingly thoughtful expression crossed the blond boys face.

"I don't know," he finally muttered. Harry looked down at him again but didn't have the opportunity to say anything else because he'd just rounded the corner leading to the hospital wing. With a sigh of relief, he hurried forward the last few steps and bust through the doors.

"Madam Pomfrey! I need help!" Harry yelled as he ran into the room. She came hurrying out from a door at the end of the room looking worried. She stopped when she first saw Malfoy, a look of shock flashing across her face before it was replaced with a stoic expression of determination. She bustled forward directing Harry to place Malfoy on a nearby bed. She began waving her wand over the blond boy muttering words under her breath. The buttons came undone and the bloodstained white shirt slide open to reveal the long, deep gashes crisscrossing Malfoy's pale chest. Harry couldn't help a small gasp from escaping his mouth.

"Make yourself useful," Madam Pomfrey demanded, pushing past him to Malfoy's side. "Go get me some potions from the back room." Harry listened carefully as she rattled off a short list. He then hurried away to the room the nurse had recently vacated. When he reached it he saw a box full of small bottles on the floor, she must have been putting away a new stock. He dived to the ground and began making a pile of what he needed. By the time he returned, Malfoy was completely unconscious and Madam Pomfrey was frowning as she tried to close the cuts. She barely glanced at Harry as she grabbed a dark bottle from his hand and emptied it into Malfoy's mouth. Immediately the wounds started stitching themselves back together with a slow, even speed. Madam Pomfrey relaxed fractionally. She selected another potion and fed it to Malfoy whose complexion darkened slightly as a result. For the next few minutes Harry quietly stood next to the hospital bed as the nurse alternated between administrating potions and performing spells.

"What happened?" she asked once it was apparent that Malfoy wasn't seconds away from dying. Harry hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"We were having a fight," he started, then paused. Madam Pomfrey gave him a sharp look.

"It was an accident," Harry insisted quickly. "I didn't know what the spell would do, I'd only read it somewhere and it happened to come to mind. I didn't think. . ." he trailed off.

"What spell was it?"

"_Sectumsempra_," Harry answered. Horror flooded Madam Pomfrey's face.

"Harry James Potter!" she yelled shrilly, making Harry flinch. "What were you reading that told you such a dark spell?!" Harry opened his mouth but didn't say anything. Madam Pomfrey cuffed him around the head. "Tell me right now, young man! And don't you dare lie to me!"

"It was just my potions book," he told her meekly, crouching slightly from the blow. She raised her arm to hit him again. He flew his hands up, "I promise! It was my potions book!" She paused.

"Show me," she demanded.

"I left my bag where we had the fight. I'll go get it," Harry made for the door but was stopped by Madam Pomfrey.

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Potter. Tell me where it is and I will go get it. You will sit right here and wait for me." Harry nodded and described its location best he could. He watched as she stalked out of the hospital wing. He began to pace back and forth and the end of Malfoy's bed, occasionally glancing over at him. He was still trying to grasp with what had happened. After the adrenaline of saving Malfoy had faded, he was filled with the strongest sense of guilt he had ever felt. He could barely look at the pale boy lying between stark white sheets that had only recently been cleansed of his blood.

Eventually he sat in the chair beside Malfoy's bed and rested his head in his hands. Thoughts of the conversation he'd had with the boy in front of him on the way here came into his mind. Did he hate Malfoy? _No_, his mind told him. _Well, maybe. Yes. But then . . . no. No I don't. Do I? Do I hate Draco Malfoy? _He could feel two parts of himself warring and he had no idea who was winning. He lifted his head and looked at the boy who had been his enemy for as long as he'd been a student at Hogwarts. His eyes slid over the features that were so often twisted in a sneer now relaxed and peaceful. His gaze moved down to Malfoy's chest where he knew there would always be faint scars covering the light muscles he'd developed from playing quidditch. Harry watched as one of Malfoy's hands twitched, the long fingers that were so deft at picking a snitch from the air and that had just pointed a wand at his chest and fired an unforgivable spell. But then, wasn't Harry the one that'd actually caused damage? Who cared what Malfoy had been about to do? Harry was the one that had hurt someone. Harry gave a heavy sigh and dropped his head back into his hands trying not to think about what would happen when Madam Pomfrey came back into the room.


End file.
